daily prompt

My dear old me

Write a letter to your 100-year-old self.

Are you already a hundred years old? What an achievement! Hope you’re doing well, both physically and sychologicially. You know that your parents, grandparents and great grandparents had barely managed to reach their seventy five. But, according to what I had seen and heard, they had been acting as if they were a hundred. Pray tell me you are in good form and shape.

Sure, you still remember that madness about beauty standards and cosmetic surgeries which are developing every second these days They’ve been blowing the brains of both men and women for a while. Do you still remember when you used to laugh at how some women are looking all the same. You, then said, one day husbands and wives will be confused, unable to spot their partners among the crowd of similar faces. Hopefully, you’re smiling now while saying no; the number of people who giving up this madness are on rise.

What about smart technologies and artificial intelligence? Are people giving up these things too or things are becoming worse. Please, do not say robots are everywhere. Hopefully, you’re smiling again and say; no, humans are in control and they’re moving, working, and using their own hands and brains.

Don’t forget to send my prayers and love to my children and my grandchildren,

Love you my dear old me,

Be safe,

Be always content,

With the best wishes,

Nahla

daily prompt

“Old fashioned life”

Describe a phase in life that was difficult to say goodbye to.

Don’t you miss your old fashioned phone?

Don’t you miss the days you use your brain, hands, and feelings to write a letter, a note, or a postcard?

Don’t you long for using a pen and paper?

Don’t you miss your old telephone and address book?

Don’t you miss a family outing without a phone, without a camera?

Don”t you miss privacy and respect?

The list of things that have become nowadays old fashioned is so long. I don’t know about you, but I do miss this phase of my life and that’s the phase I found too hard to say goodbye to.

With all the best wishes,

Nahla

Just writing

The umbrella

 

 

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”Never forget the umbrella,” was the first advice I got before moving to the UK which was a long time ago.

We moved in the summer, and I’ll never forget how the weather changed all of a sudden. In the beginning, it was warm and sunny, but later, at night, it started pouring and didn’t stop for two days. The umbrella broke after a few minutes, and we got a new one, or more than one.  Over the first year, my husband and I always kept an umbrella in our bags, though we knew it was useless and wouldn’t stand long. A few months later we forgot about it and rarely got any.

The umbrella was just a piece of advice to make sure you get ready for changes, but it was not for any protection. Once we understood and used to the new place, we found out the route for protection.

Wishing you all the best,

Nahla

 

Just writing

The journey of the lifetime 3

 

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Last year I wrote about Hajj under the title of the journey of a lifetime, I will leave the links at the end of my post so you can check them if you like.

These days Muslim Pilgrims are on their way to Makkah and this is why the memories of my Hajj journey become fresh again. In my previous posts, I explained how it was so hard for me to leave my boys who were at that time about 4 and 6 years old, even though I left them with my mother. On the day I went with my husband to Cairo International airport, I wept deeply from my heart and my friend, who was waiting for us there, hugged me tight trying to soothe me though I knew it was even harder for her because she also left her daughter who was younger than my boys and she was pregnant in the first two months. She knew about her pregnancy when we got all the documents of hajj done. I told her to postpone hajj: ‘You can apply next year. Hajj is a hard journey. You’re responsible for this pure soul growing inside you,’ I said trying to persuade her to change her mind but she said she wanted both and she would go for Hajj. And we went.
When I decided to write this post, I thought of sharing one of the very funniest moments that happened on that journey. On the day of Arafah, one of the main rituals in Hajj, we spent the day praying, making supplications and reading Quran. Food and water were available to everybody all the time. But we didn’t expect to have ice cream too. One of our friends was dead tired and was just having a nap when we discovered about that ice cream surprise. Her friend wet her lips with some yummy vanilla ice cream. She got up immediately and told everybody that she thought she was dead and was having ice cream in heaven. I couldn’t stop laughing when I heard her tale but I also thanked my Lord that I wasn’t next to her that day or else I wouldn’t be able to concentrate in any of the rituals.

 

There were lots of those funniest moments but I think one in enough this time.

By the way, my pregnant friend did well in Hajj and gave birth to a beautiful girl on her due date.

Wishing you all the best,
Nahla

Herewith my last year Hajj posts:

The journey of a lifetime!

The journey of a lifetime/2

I hope you will like this song too.

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Just writing

The teacher

“The teacher and the taught together create the teaching.” An Eastern saying.

Does this refer to the good teacher and the clever student? I do not think so.

In the same class, with the same teacher, there will be students who fail and others pass. I think It’s more about the student’s effort than the gift of having a good teacher. The teacher, the student and the subject create education. They all have to be there to make the process.

In my undergraduate studies, I had to choose another language to study. My choice was Spanish. Our tutor was Espanol and his teaching method was to give us long different topics in spanish. He was the one to read and explain and we were the receivers. He was too fast to follow or understand. I remember how my friend and I spent most of the time laughing; we could not understand anything, just looking at the translation most of the time. However we had never failed and surprisingly I used to have good grades.

I’ve almost forgot all of what I learned; it’s been long time ago, but I still remember my teacher.

Wishing you all the best,

Adios,

Nahla

Just writing

Universal language

 

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Have you ever understood anyone speaking not your language?

It can happen and it did happen.

Many years ago one of my neighbours was from Mexico. She moved to the UK with her husband and her little boy, about three years old. Whenever I saw her on the stairs or the road, she was talking to herself. My neighbours and I thought she might be insane but she wasn’t. One day I gave her a leaflet about the English course centre which I was attending at that time. I cannot describe how her face changed that day. She smiled and thanked me and I felt her words were coming deeply from her heart. From that day, we became friends though we didn’t understand each other that much, she used to say that she doesn’t know why she understood me more than anyone else in the city. Honestly, neither do I. I just used to repeat what others said to her.  I wish I could have her details to keep in touch because once we moved I don’t know whether she was still in the UK or went back to her country.

I remembered her and remember how we can understand others with a different tongue on the day of Eid.  I was sitting next to an elderly woman. Probably, she was from Pakistan. She couldn’t sit on the floor, her daughter and granddaughter brought her a chair. So I was sitting on the carpet next to her on a chair. While I was talking with a friend on my other side, she tapped on my shoulder and talked as if she knew me. I understood from her looks and the tune of her voice that she didn’t like how women are chatting and didn’t listen to the Imam’s Eid speech. This was true, I was talking too but this was because the Imam’s voice was too low, probably he didn’t notice that his speaker didn’t work well. I nodded and admitted that she was right and repeated in English what she was saying in her language. She held my hand and smiled at me which I think meant she was happy I understood her though I couldn’t speak her language.

Can this be a universal language?   I think there can be a language that we can feel even though we don’t understand.

Wishing you all the best,

Nahla

 

 

Just writing

Simplicity

 

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I found this photo in a post on facebook about happiness and simple life. At the beginning, I didn’t know why I liked the photo more than the post. My eyes kept scrutinising everything; the old pieces of furniture,  the cracks and scratches on the wall and the floor, the little chicks picking the grains, that old broom, the clear sky, the children playing, the infant taking the first step, the mother leaning, the granny kneeling and their faces radiant with joy

Now I know why I liked it more because it reminded me of my grandfather’s house. It was a very big house in the village but it was so old too. All of us, his grandchildren, we were so many, always asked him to renew the place,  just add a modern touch to that old building, we would always suggest. But he would never do; he liked his house the way it was. Honestly, though we would prefer that our grandfather would have a modern house, we really enjoyed every moment of our holiday together there.

I’ve heard that nowadays some people prefer to spend their holidays in simple country houses. This means that simplicity is recommended as a modern recreation option. I’m not sure if my children would agree? My daughter would do, I know, especially if there are those peeping little animals around. The boys definitely, absolutely,  certainly would never; but if Wi-Fi is available, miracles could happen.

Wishing you all the best,

Nahla

 

Just writing

Can we try?

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Inviting others for Iftar (breakfast); friends, relatives, or some acquaintances is a popular tradition in the month of Ramadan. Muslims believe that if one shares or offers a meal with/to others, he/she will be heavenly rewarded.  When I started writing this post, I mainly thought of the manners that both visitors and hosts are supposed to have in order to enjoy their time together. I did not think of those sophisticated rules of etiquettes; what to take as a gift, how to sit, how to eat, what to say and so on. These are great rules but I thought of something very general, sometimes that can be very hard to apply. Can we try not to poke our noses into others’ affairs?

One day, a friend visited me after I gave birth to my daughter. It was her first time to visit me and apparently she liked both the place and the house. After giving her warm congratulations; she started a series of investigations all about how many? how much? how far? All those ”hows” made her 30 minutes visit pass like 5 hours. I pretended that I didn’t know most of the answers and changed the subject to her little son. That was why she left early; ‘ You look tired,’ she said and left.

There was a story in Arabic; I have read recently. It teaches one of the visiting manners. The story was about a Muslim scholar whose best student used regularly to invite him at his house. One day, the scholar’s cousin offered to give him a ride to his student’s. Once they had arrived, the host invited that cousin to join them. They talked and ate and then it was time to leave.

On their way back, the cousin poured all his thoughts;

‘ Your student is a real gentleman; kind and generous. His house is so big, clean and tidy. His attire looks expensive and neat. And the food, it was the best I have ever tasted. His people have high skills of cooking. I’m sure he is very wealthy.’

The scholar did not comment. He was riding his cousin’s donkey and listening while watching the sun setting.

‘But they have bad manners; they let women serve food and drinks. Have you seen that woman who was holding the water jug for us to clean our hands after dinner? I don’t like that,’ his cousin added

The scholar looked at his cousin and said; ‘ I have been regularly visiting that student for ten years. I ate their food, I drank their juice and I washed my hands in their house countless times, and yet I don’t know if I was served by men or women.’

His cousin said no more.

The lesson is; they were invited to have a meal, not to interfere in other’s life.

Wishing you all the best,

Nahla

 

Just writing

One more!

 

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Today at breakfast, my daughter said; ‘I’m full, mama.’ There wasn’t much left and I asked her to try one more to finish her plate. ‘I’m full, mama,’ she repeated.

I did not force her because she ate well and sometimes you cannot add any more. I don’t know how people in food competitions could eat that much just to win or to register a high score. It’s really awful to eat more than you can afford. It is known that animals eat when they are hungry; they eat to survive although these days I doubt it. I think they’ve changed too. Have you seen how seagulls snatch, or better to say steal, people’s sandwiches, chips and crisps? When I was young I learned that seagulls fish close to the surface. They also eat earthworms, snails and slugs. But when I moved to cities by sea or rivers, I noticed how these birds have not only adapted well to live with man but also learned his greedy eating habit.

Many years ago, one of my friends went to a social gathering with people of her country at well-known Arabic restaurant. She visited me after they had finished and described the different varieties of starters, main dishes and desserts; hummus, tabula, green salad, stuffed vine leaves, kebab, baklava, rice pudding … yummy! The list made my mouth water. But she did not look well. She tried to lay down on the sofa but she couldn’t. She told me that she ate so much and her husband gave her more. Then, she couldn’t hold it anymore; she ran to the bathroom and vomited up all the food she had eaten that night.

Wasn’t it better if she said she cannot eat anymore?

Wishing you all the best,

Nahla

Just writing

New house

How many times did we move to a new house? 🤔 don’t count, please!

This is not because of me ( sometimes not always) but our circumstances change: having children, finishing studies, my husband starting a new job in a different city, problems in old house, …

When my children watched their old photos, they would say; how many times did we move mama? That house was the best? Yes, we remembered that doll’s flat, we cannot remember that one, we were too little, … it’s fun to talk about moving but it’s really a hard time: packing, unpacking, tidying, cleaning, changing address, and endless list of chores

Our new house key lock is so hard, it takes time to open the door, sometimes it’s stuck. My son gave up, every time texted me; open the door mama, I’m very close. I would have ignored his text and let him try till he open it, but it might end up with an extra charge for door damage.

Though different but this reminds me of our first flat at university accommodation which was like a maze; every time when coming back, I tried hard to open the door, and it refused, no way it insisted, until I gave up, raising up my face, oops It wasn’t ours. When we became friends, I told my neighbour about those countless numbers when I thought hers was mine; ‘ I have never noticed that,’ she said, ‘ and ‘ this is why we become friends,’ I thought.

Wishing you all the best,

Nahla